The Rebel Spy Read online

  “Only by a handful of minutes.” Tamsyn picked at the hard biscuit.

  “Oh, twins?”

  Tamsyn nodded and dropped the biscuit onto the table.

  “Your brother mentioned you were from Tennessee.” Knowles glanced at Elizabeth and back at Tamsyn.

  “Yes, eastern Tennessee,” Tamsyn offered Knowles a genuine smile. I can keep your secret.

  ****

  Tamsyn leaned back on her heels. A full day of work left the vegetable garden cleared of weeds. The earthy scent of cool fresh-turned soil filled the air. She dug the soil in the corner of the garden nearest the house. A deep sigh escaped when the weathered board of the wooden chest came into sight. With a tug, the lid broke open.

  The deep voice of the general carried across the yard calling for Knowles. She tucked the ring and papers into her apron pockets. She would hide them in the house with the few coins Ben left her.

  “You’ve done a good job.” He strode across the yard toward her.

  “I have a few seeds set aside from last year. It’s time to plant them.” Tamsyn pushed dirt into the hole and smiled up at him. “What brings you here so early, General?”

  He leaned his arms onto the rough fence rails, sleeves pushed up, revealing tanned, muscular forearms. Without his military coat, Tamsyn could envision him as nothing more than a neighbor.

  He appeared thoughtful for a moment longer. “I have a request to make.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Your brother is part of the official surrender ceremony tomorrow. General Grant requested your presence.”

  She stood, wiping the dirt from her hands on her skirts.

  “How’s your leg?”

  Her face burned and she glanced away. Knowles and Elizabeth sat on the front porch in the rocker. “Better, thank you. What time does General Grant require my presence?”

  “Knowles will escort you tomorrow morning after you’ve taken your breakfast.” He scratched the stubble along his jaw and let out a long breath.

  “Out with it, General.” Her hands settled on her hips and she pressed her lips against a laugh while he shifted with discomfort on his feet.

  “Do you own anything…”

  His gaze flickered across her body. “More suitable?”

  She glanced down at the black wool dress, covered in soil from her work in the garden.

  “I mean no offense,” he hurried to apologize. He ran his hand over her face. “I’m sorry.”

  “No. I made Elizabeth a dress for Christmas with the only party frock I brought from Tennessee.” A sad smile pulled at her lips. In five years an occasion to wear the dress had never occurred. She’d torn it apart and sewn for weeks by the fire.

  “I’ll find something and bring it to you this evening.”

  ****

  He jogged up the steps, eager to show her the dress he’d found. The regiment’s doctor found it packed in a truck of fabric he used for wounds. No doubt given by some woman to aid the soldiers in any way she could.

  Or stolen from some plantation owner’s wife.

  He frowned. He’d ordered his men not to plunder or steal, but he knew it happened more often than not.

  Knowles had gone over the seams of the dress and clucked his tongue over the color and style. “General, was there nothing less bold? I dare say she’d look better in her homespun wool.”

  He’d ignored Knowles and paced inside his tent, hands clasped behind his back. His attraction to the rebel spy unnerved him, and he tried to convince himself it a consequence of his choice to avoid the loose women that straggled behind the regiment outside of towns. His mind turned to the fancy women he’d seen sneak from the camp each morning.

  Perhaps a little horizontal refreshment would ease the ache.

  He was in no position to consort with the enemy or a captive. Regardless of how her bottom swayed when she walked.

  Tucking the dark burgundy crinoline and satin dress over his arm, he’d coughed and turned away.

  ****

  In the evening light the dress appeared almost black. The dark burgundy color would suit her creamy complexion. Wrapped in his thoughts of dresses and loose women he pushed open the door.

  At the sound of dripping water his head jerked up and his breath caught in his chest. She’d just stood up. Water glistened on her wet curves and slid into the metal tub. He soaked in the sight of her, from the base of her neck to the dip in her waist. Her hips flared into the most fantastic backside he’d ever seen.

  His gaze lingered a moment too long on her backside and the door scraped across the floor. She froze, hand outstretched toward a towel draped on the back of the rocking chair by the chair. His gaze traveled up and caught sight of her breasts.

  He gulped and averted his eyes. “Pardon me.” He backed out of the cabin, closing the door, and leaned his head against it. He breathed the cool night air. Damn.

  “Forget to knock first, sir?”

  He ignored the question. “Do you have something to report, Private?”

  “Guards continue to be doubled, sir.”

  “Have you found the culprit?”

  “No, sir. If I may speak freely, sir?”

  “When have you not?” He motioned for Knowles to continue.

  “Are you certain the decision regarding the woman is a wise one? The soldiers under your command…”

  “Knowles, I’m tired of all the death, the blood, the fighting.” He sighed and the sight of his captive’s naked back flashed through his mind. “I just want to go home and put this war behind me.”

  “She’s very attractive.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he growled.

  “Only that the regiment will disband soon. You said that yourself. We will all go home and she will be left behind to fend for herself.”

  Chapter Eight

  Tuesday, April 11, 1865

  Tamsyn slid her hand into the crook of her brother’s elbow. She’d caught the general’s gaze on her several times.

  Picturing me naked, no doubt. She frowned and glanced toward him. He stood a few yards away in conversation with the other Union officers. Catching her gaze with his own, his lips turned up in a friendly smile and he winked.

  Tamsyn turned her focus back on Davis. “How does it feel to be a free man after so long?”

  “I feel like some of Mama’s peach cobbler right about now.” Davis rubbed a hand across his stomach.

  She giggled and tugged the white shawl around her shoulders. She found the general’s taste in ladies clothes distasteful. The gown he’d brought her more suitable for a late evening rendezvous. The deep V neckline of the dark burgundy satin gown plunged further than anything she’d worn. She’d been grateful when Knowles located the delicate lace shawl hidden away. “Well, I’m sure she’ll make one for you when you get back to Tennessee.”

  “The gown is most becoming on you, Mrs. Moody.” General Steele slipped to stand next to them near the bottom of the steps where’d they’d been placed on display.

  Come and meet the vanquished rebels!

  “How did you come to have such a beautiful dress?” she asked, her lip curled with disgust. Her hands smoothed over the bodice. “Ripped off some screaming southern belle, no doubt.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners and she heard a soft chuckle. “Mr. Hart, your things were moved to your sister’s house.”

  “Much obliged, General.” Davis leaned against the crutch.

  “Knowles will escort you.”

  “Think there might be trouble?”

  Tamsyn followed her brother’s gaze across the yard. A group of soldiers hurried to turn their backs but she caught the icy look of hatred. “We can go?”

  “Yes, of course. The ceremony is over and I daresay Elizabeth has exhausted Private Knowles.” He nodded toward the wagon where Knowles had set up a game of chess and attempted to teach Elizabeth the most basic of the game’s concepts.

  He walked with them through the sea of soldier
s. She released her brother’s arm and Knowles helped him into the wagon.

  “Tamsyn.” General Steele grasped her elbow, “General Grant is hosting a dinner party this evening, here, for some of the officers.”

  She frowned and gathered her skirts in her hand. “That sounds nice, I suppose.”

  He cleared his throat. “I would be honored if you would attend with me.”

  Her refusal caught behind her lips.

  “Hi, Mr. General.” Elizabeth waved from where she perched on the edge of the wagon.

  “Hi, Little Bit. Did you give Knowles the what-for this afternoon?”

  Elizabeth giggled and nodded.

  “No.” Tamsym smiled and shook her head. The curls wiggled and tickled her ears. “I must get Elizabeth home. She’s tired after being here all day. And Davis is exhausted.”

  “Tam, I can take Elizabeth home.” Davis ruffled his niece’s red curls.

  “No.” She shook her head again. The infuriating curls tickled again and she recalled why she’d stopped wearing them years ago. “We need to get you settled, Davey.”

  “Tam. Go.” Davis put his hand on top of her own. “Elizabeth will be fine.”

  She sighed. She couldn’t deny her desire to attend. There’d been no fancy dinners after she and Ben moved to Virginia. The last one she’d attended was the small soiree her mother hosted just after her impromptu wedding.

  Mother’s dinner parties were famous.

  “Uncle Davey tells the best stories, Mama!”

  Tamsyn rolled her eyes. Davis’ stories were filled with blood and gore, ghosts and goblins. None of them were appropriate for a five-year-old girl.

  “Show them Yanks how a real lady does it, Tam.” Davis grinned. “None of them have ever seen one.”

  She took a deep breath and kissed the top of Elizabeth’s head. “All right then. Be good for Uncle Davey, sweetheart.”

  ****

  The general slipped his arm around her waist. His hand rested on her hip and guided her into the parlor.

  “That is very improper,” she whispered and risked a glance up. She sucked in a breath. He’s so…handsome.

  He’d managed a proper shave. Without the stubble peppered with gray along his jaw he looked ten years younger. She looked away and moved to push his hand away. “People will think there is something between us.”

  “Let them think so.” Strong fingers looped with her own and her body broke into goosebumps. She shuddered and leaned against him. “Are you cold?” He pressed his lips close to her ear and she fought the next shiver.

  “No.”

  An older man approached them and she offered him a smile. She recognized a host when she saw one.

  “General Steele, so glad you could make it. As always you have managed to have the most beautiful woman in the room on your arm.”

  “Thank you, sir. Your hospitality is most gracious.”

  “The other officers will try their best.” Their host winked at her. “There’s music in the foyer. General Grant requested an early dinner, so it will be served soon.”

  General Steele maneuvered her into the foyer. A few couples took to the center of the room while a small brass band provided music. He led them into a corner of the room, furthest from the band. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “For accompanying me tonight,” he whispered. His hand reached up to brush back a curl near her jaw.

  Heat rushed to her face and she nodded.

  “You’re stunning.” His hand slid down her arm.

  “Thank you,” she choked.

  His soft laughter moved like silk over her ears. “Riveting conversation we’re having.”

  “General Steele, so glad you made it tonight.”

  His body went rigid against hers and his arm tighten around her waist.

  Possessive.

  She lifted her face to the voice and fear rippled over her. The soldier who’d tossed her onto the ground the night she’d been caught glared back at her.

  He’s an officer?

  “Waxman.” He offered a stiff nod.

  Waxman bristled and turned his attention on her. His eyes traveled to her cleavage and his lip curled into an ugly smile. “I see the spy has managed to get herself invited.”

  She lifted her chin. “Isn’t that the job of a spy, sir? To infiltrate the enemy even when he thinks he is safe?”

  Waxman grunted in response.

  “If you will excuse us, we were just about to find our seats in the dining room.” General Steele gripped her side and she let him pull her away.

  She fought the urge to stick her tongue out.

  “Don’t encourage the man,” General Steele warned.

  “He’s rude and ill mannered.” She recalled the way he’d groped her while he held her on the ground.

  “On that, we are agreed.” He urged her through a set of open double doors and into the dining room.

  She bit her bottom lip. The walls were in desperate need of a fresh coat of pain. Faint lines were visible where pictures once hung on the walls and a gaping hole in the ceiling held memories of a chandelier. She cringed. The house resembled her home in Tennessee.

  Late afternoon sunlight filtered in the curtainless windows and glittered off the table. The large table shone with fresh polish in the center of the room. Covered in gleaming crystal and silver, she fought the desire to reach out and touch the goblet nearest to her.

  Her father carted her mother’s crystal all the way from Charleston decades ago. Over the rugged roads from the coast into the mountains.

  She bit back a sob.

  “Are you unwell? You’ve gone quite pale.”

  She waved away his concern. “I’m fine. Where shall we sit?” Several officers and a few ladies had already taken seats around the table.

  “James!” A fair haired officer waved from the end of the table.

  With his hand on her lower back, General Steele quickened his pace.

  “George.” General Steele shook the man’s hand, relief relaxing the worry lines on his face.

  “So this little thing is what all the fuss is about?” George offered Tamsyn a quick once-over with bright blue eyes.

  “Rumor mill was quick to work on this one.” General Steele gave a heavy sigh. “Tamsyn Moody, allow me to introduce Lieutenant George Chaffee.”

  “At your service, Miss Moody.” George inclined his head.

  “Mrs. Moody,” she corrected. “But please, call me Tamsyn.”

  “The plot thickens.” George grinned.

  “How bad is it?” General Steele asked.

  George motioned them toward empty chairs. General Steel guided her into a seat between the two men.

  George laughed. “Well, the rumor doesn’t mention how beautiful the spy is that has muddled your mind. Nor does it mention the spy is a woman.”

  General Steele groaned.

  “I must admit, I was beginning to question our friendship, Steele.” George continued to chuckle.

  “I ordered the men to remain silent,” General Steele explained.

  “Do you know who went behind your back?”

  Tamsyn listened to the men talk over her. Secured between the two of them she took a moment to glance around at the other officers filing into the room. Outside the afternoon faded to twilight and the men hurried to the table at General Grant’s request for an early meal.

  She found General Grant there, at the end of the table. He appeared very solemn in contrast to the other Union officers in the room. He caught her gaze and nodded to her. She continued around the room. There were only about a dozen Union officers.

  She wasn’t the sole woman in the room. Three other women were also in attendance and most looked to be nothing more than low-class camp followers.

  She frowned. The dresses they wore, looted from other women’s bureaus, were ill-fitting. One woman’s too large bust threatened to spill out of the pale yellow taffeta dress she wore.

  Tamsyn’s gaze roamed o
ver the women and her eyes met a pair of deep chocolate brown ones she recognized. They belonged to a very young girl who attended the local church were Tamsyn and Elizabeth were infrequent members.

  Tabitha.

  She knew the girl to be no more than sixteen. The youngest person in the room by at least a decade.

  What is she doing here?

  “General, excuse me.” Tamsyn pushed out of her chair and hurried around the table to where Tabitha stood alone, eyes wide.

  “Tabby, sweetie, what on earth are you doing here?” Tamsyn slid close to the girl.

  “Tamsyn,” the young woman sobbed and gripped Tamsyn’s arm. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

  Fear rippled over Tabitha’s face and Tamsyn’s heart beat faster.

  “Tabitha, what’s wrong?”

  The girl pulled her further into the corner. “He offered Mama a few coins for letting me come to the party with him.” Tabitha whispered. “There’s nothing to eat. Mama said I would have a nice time and she would be able to buy flour and maybe a little pork.”

  “Who offered your Mama money?” Tamsyn demanded.

  “He keeps touching me. It hurts. “Tears filled Tabitha’s eyes. “He said Mama knew what the coins were for and if I didn’t stop crying, he’d take back the money.”

  “Recruiting?”

  The voice stiffened Tamsyn’s spine and she turned to find Waxman leering down at her.

  Tamsyn lifted an eyebrow and met his angry glare.

  “I don’t recruit children.” She clenched her jaw.

  Tabitha trembled behind her.

  Chairs scraped against the floor and she leaned forward, into Waxman’s space. She licked her lips. “I’d find a woman who would plunge a knife into your filthy Yankee heart.”

  “You fucking bitch.” Waxman’s face turned red. One hand snaked into Tamsyn’s hair.

  Tabitha screamed.

  Waxman’s free arm lifted, taking aim on her face. A hand gripped Waxman’s arm.

  “Waxman! Let the woman go!” General Grant’s voice boomed through the room. The color drained from Waxman’s face and his eyes flashed with unresolved anger.

  His grip relaxed and Tamsyn jerked backwards out of his hold. “She disrespected me, sir.” Waxman continued to glare at her. “She—”

  “She’s a rebel, Wax.” George moved with ease next to Tamsyn and Tabitha. “They don’t know any better.”